


Saints and Healers

by Liravell



Category: La Peste | The Plague - Albert Camus
Genre: Death, First Kiss, Gays? In my Classical Literature?, M/M, Why Are There No Fanfics In This Fandom?, duh - Freeform, it's more likely than you think, naked swimming, since it's the Plague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 18:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14503080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liravell/pseuds/Liravell
Summary: When he heard the deep whisper suggesting the trip to the coast, filling his request with soft excuses he couldn’t say no.‘Right,’ Rieux smiled faintly. ‘Let's go.’They stole a moment from the Plague so it stole a life in return.





	Saints and Healers

Only when Tarrou suggested to go for a swim did Rieux realize how much they were focusing on the plague. That was all that really mattered. He did not sleep enough. He did not eat enough. Between treating his patients, reporting new infected and overseeing the quarantine he did not even have enough time to think. Or maybe he just didn’t want to. What was there to think about if you lived in a death trap and your only goal was to stop the inevitable, a pointless fight that he couldn't hope to win. So when he heard a deep whisper suggesting a trip to the coast, a request filled with soft excuses he couldn’t say no.

‘Right,’ Rieux smiled faintly. ‘Let's go.’

Moments later he was sitting on the shore, his hand tracing the surface of one of the rocks that lied on the beach. It was cold, so different from the morbid heat of his patients’ stifling breaths. It was worn by weather, waves, and sand, yet it was still standing after all these years. A survivor. Just like them.

‘This feels so good. To finally rest. To steal this one moment from the plague and have it only to ourselves…’ Tarrou’s voice was filled with happiness and relief. The same kind of relief that inhabited Rieux’s mind. They knew that in the city behind their backs people were dying. They were aware that the city was drenched in chaos and rush. But this moment was theirs. Looking at the dark waves shining in the moonlight, feeling the touch of the brisk wind and smelling the fresh scent of seaweed and iodine, hearing the tranquil sound of crashing waves… Tarrou and Rieux smiled.

Rieux stood up and took off his black coat. When Tarrou gave him a questioning glance his grin just widened.

‘You wanted to swim, I recall.’ With one swift movement, the doctor loosened his tie and threw it on the ground. When he started unbuttoning his shirt Tarrou followed him, starting to get rid of his own clothes.

Rieux faced the sea. The darkness of the water made him want to go back. This view, however beautiful and calm, resembled his nightmares. The dreams where he was drowned, the black filling his lungs, freezing his heart. Doctor Rieux was a rational man. A man who did not let his dreams rob him of happiness. So he took a step forward and when he felt the waves hitting his skin he let go of fear and dived in.

The cold was unbearable only for a few seconds. During the last few months he learned that after some time people will get used to anything and when the cold was replaced by the slight heat of his body he smiled again. He turned around and saw his friend joining him in the sea. As they swam their bodies moved in the same rhythm, with the same zest. After months they knew each other well.

The water felt cleansing, giving them something to break away from the damned city, yet soon they got tired and headed towards the coast. When Jean was able to stand in the water, he stopped and turned to Rieux who was only meters behind. His grey eyes carefully observed the other man. He wanted to remember this. The stars and the waves. The fresh air and quiet breathing of the doctor. The way his olive skin shined in the night. His black hair.

Rieux reached his friend and stood in front of him, the question why he stopped lingering in his mouth.

His eyes.

They stood so close they could feel each other’s heat.

Lips.

And then Tarrou kissed him. Rieux’s eyes widened in surprise, but he did not break the kiss. He did not want to. He was a married man yet his marriage was based on trained politeness. This was not politeness. Tarrou’s eyes heavy from the things he saw, yet sparkling with amusement when they talked, Tarrou’s deep laugh at the end of the day when they came back to his apartment, Tarrou’s hand that caressed his cheek, Tarrou’s lips that made him melt. It was not politeness. It was fire. The fire that he tried to ignore until he choked on the smoke. The time of the plague was not a time for fires. Not a time for this kind of love.

Soon they left the water. They dressed and started going back. Neither had said a word. They were conscious of being perfectly alone, however both Rieux and Tarrou knew that this could not be. They must set their shoulders to the wheel again. That night, that moment in the ocean, a moment without evil or obligations, was all they could ever have.

Next months were lost in work. Patients. Papers. Authorities. Papers. The work became a seemingly endless cycle of infections and death. And then the plague started to disappear. The number of dead was decreasing. Some of the infected recovered. Neither Rieux nor Tarrou let out a sigh of relief, but Rieux could feel hope sprouting in his heart like a delicate flower, still not ready to face the icy winds. And then one day, he looked in Tarrou’s eyes and saw the black, deep water close in. His own nightmare taking control. Tarrou fell. His forehead was hot and his blue eyes teary from the fever.

Rieux watched his friend in bed. The doctor watched as the plague took away the only person who stood beside him during this hell. There was nothing he could do so he just stayed. Not paying attention to the fact that he could get ill he stayed and took care of Jean. That was the least he could do for a person who showed him so much more than he knew. A person who showed him a different face of humanity.

The night Jean Tarrou died Rieux could not stop his tear. He watched his last breath. He saw his golden hair and a sly smile, the same one he noticed when they first met. Heavy drops of regret fell down his cheeks as his whole body shook with silent sobs. He wanted to scream. He wanted to shout. But no sound left his lips.

Long after midnight, when there were no more tears to shed and the pain that ripped through his heart became a dull ache in his mind, Rieux smiled bitterly. He remembered that day when they went swimming. The conversation they had before. Jean wanted to be a saint among the plague. He wanted to be calm and untouched by the evil. When Rieux told him that he just wanted to be human Tarrou laughed. Being one of the defeated, a victim, a human, was so much harder and now Rieux understood what he meant.

To be a saint one had to look at the world around them with tranquility. See the horrors and pains of it and stay unmoved. A saint had to reach peace.

A human on the other hand… Oh, to be a human was to feel. To feel so deeply it tore one’s soul apart. To be a victim you had to feel all the pain. How could one remain human in this tragedy?

But Rieux realized that as Jean died he was calm. A smile on his face, playfull sparkles in his eyes. Tarrou died just like he wanted to. Defeated by his enemy like a martyr. Rieux on the other hand… The doctor realized that he cried for the first time since the Plague had started. He felt the loss of a friend and he could only imagine how many people were lost in those months.

Jean always felt and reached peace. Rieux, who was always so calm, rebelled against the death itself. The tables have turned. They reached their goals. Oh, but how bitter was the taste of victory when they did not know what they wished for.

His thought slowly slipped into that night. His silhouette in the sea, his blue eyes in the moonlight, his blond hair dark from the water. They stole that one night from the Plague, so it stole a life from him.

**Author's Note:**

> Once again I want to thank the Pegasus of my inspiration, JulyRutile


End file.
